


Preposterous

by Zhie



Series: Bunniverse [19]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bunniverse, Elflings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 15:11:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11315994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhie/pseuds/Zhie
Summary: Just another day in Valinor, and young Thranduil is looking for something to do.





	Preposterous

**Author's Note:**

> There is an audio version of this fic, but it is the original version of it, so there are a few changes from this version. 
> 
> <http://pounce.queencheetah.com/Audio/PREPOSTEROUS.wav>

"Ehtelë! Ehtelë!" Thranduil peered around the corner of the wall and sighed. "Ehtelë!" He contemplated climbing a tree to get a better view, but there were no good climbing trees to be found. Remembering the wall, he used a bucket nearby to get a foot up so that he could scramble atop the bricks that provided a fence around the gardens.

"Oh, my word," he said to himself when he spied his friend. “What spell does she have upon him? This shall not do. Not at all.” He climbed swiftly down the wall and ran to the clearing nearby.

"What are you doing?" he demanded when he finally came upon two other elflings playing with blocks. They had built two tall structures, one of them with many block walls around it. A number of tall-stemmed flowers had been uprooted from somewhere and were serving as makeshift trees around the fortresses. "What is all this?"

Ecthelion looked at his friend as if he had gone mad. "We are playing," he said, in a voice that sounded as if the answer was somewhat obvious.

"With HER?!" Thranduil pointed disdainfully at the elleth sitting on the ground across from Ecthelion. "HER?!" he repeated, thrusting his hand out in a more fantastic gesture.

"No, with the wood sprites - yes, her!" announced Ecthelion. "I could not find you anywhere."

"I was asleep," defended Thranduil.

"You sleep too late," remarked Artanis, stacking up another wall around the supremely fortified structure.

Thranduil crossed his arms. "That is your opinion. And I was not talking to you," he added. “I arrive exactly when I mean to.”

"She is right though. You do sleep much too late."

Looking at Artanis with contempt as she smirked, Thranduil turned so that his back was to her and said to Ecthelion, "Fine. Well, I am here now, so we can play."

"Artanis and I have been playing for a while. You do not know the story," said Ecthelion.

"Tell me, and then she can go," said Thranduil.

"I do not want to go!" shouted Artanis. "You were late," she reminded him.

"Late? To play? Preposterous!"

Ecthelion and Artanis both looked at one another and then to Thranduil. "What does that mean?"

"What?"

"That word," pressed Ecthelion.

"What word?"

"That word you said. That last one," Ecthelion said.

Thranduil paused for a moment and then said, "The word 'word', Ehtelë?"

"No! Not the word word, the word- the one you said. The long one your said," Ecthelion told him, narrowing his eyes. "What does that one mean?"

"How am I to know which word you mean if you do not tell me?" questioned Thranduil.

“Pres-per-ister-oster-” Ecthelion hit the ground with his fist when he gave up stumbling on the syllables.

"Preposterous," spoke up Artanis. "What does that one mean?"

Glaring at the elleth, he said, "You do not deserve to know what it means. Neither of you do, since you woll not let me play with you." Thranduil made a note to ask his father just what the word that he had overheard him say a number of times meant.

"We will let you play," Ecthelion said, "but you are going to have to play the bad ones."

"The bad ones?" asked Thranduil. "What bad ones?"

"In the story," explained Ecthelion, "I am the slayer of the demons that are attacking."

"I get to take down the tower with my magic!" Artanis blurted out excitedly.

"That is very nice, but everyone knows magic is not real," Thranduil said, somewhat annoyed by the interruption. "So, I am to be the demons. Why am I attacking you?"

Ecthelion sat and stared at the miniatures they had built. "Well... because you are bad. You are demons. Demons are bad."

"But why?" Thranduil plopped down on the grass between them. "Why is it that the demons are bad? What happened to make them that way? What is my motivation?"

"Well..." Ecthelion shrugged and looked at Artanis.

"I still get to take down the tower," Artanis said warily.

"Have a lovely time with it," he said unenthusiastically. "Now, Ehtelë, what is the reason that the demons have for attacking you? Did something happen in the past that earned you their ire? Or are you simply caught as a pawn in a larger battle they intend to win?"

"Do not know," admitted Ecthelion. "Do not care, just wanted to fight them."

"And *I* get to take down the-"

Thranduil's fist balled up, and he brought it down upon the tower replica. The blocks spilled down the side, creating a clump of wooden pieces where the tower had been. "I am sorry, you were saying...?"

"Thranduil Oropherion, I do not like you," proclaimed the elleth. "In fact, I do not like you very much."

"The feeling is mutual," he said through gritted teeth as he stood up. "Ehtelë, when you want to come and play REAL games, you know where to find me." As he began to walk away, Artanis stood up and held up her head.

"And do not come back this time!" she called. Thranduil stopped and turned, challenging her. Standing her ground, Artanis took a step forward and added, "And do not expect me to help you if you ever need help taking a tower down!"

"That will be the day," snorted Thranduil to himself as he stomped away. "Me need help from you. Preposterous!"


End file.
